The Kissing Stars

by Geralyn Dawson

  Gabe’s voice climbed with every word he spoke. “You defended your pig by attacking a man holding a gun.”

  Indignant, she drew herself up. “I couldn’t let him shoot Rosie.”

  “So you thought you’d offer yourself as a target.” His harsh bark of laughter held no tone of amusement. “Well, lady, I reckon those spooklights sucked up all your brain power, because that was nothing short of—” he shouted the final word “—stupid!”

  Tess knew that charging Collins wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done, but she thought “stupid” went a little far. Her chin went up. “I will defend my family under any circumstances.”

  “It’s a pig!”

  “She’s family!”

  Just then Twinkle swept in through the front door. “All is ready, Gabe. Don’t worry everyone, I have a hunch everything will turn out fine.”

  “Good.”

  “I don’t think good is the word,” Jack said, having edged over to the window and turned his gaze outside. “Let’s get ‘em out of jail and away from town before Collins incites a riot. He’s chewing the sheriff s ear and a crowd is gathering. Looks to be some of the same folks who jumped into the colonel’s fray last time.”

  “Oh, no.” Andrew winced with disgust. “The last thing we need is another riot.”

  “Riot?” the stranger asked.

  Tess answered. “We’re not especially well-liked in town these days. Some of these ranchers around here think we’re behind the pranks being played up along the railroad spur being built out of here.”

  “Are you?”

  Catching the significant glance the fellow darted toward Gabe, she declared, “No, we certainly are not.”

  Twinkle, being Twinkle, said, “Well, that’s not quite true, Tess. Remember how I—”

  “Andrew, why don’t you take Twink outside,” Tess interrupted. “You know how the old souls around jails distracts her. I’m sure she can use some air. Gabe, are you going to bail me out of here or not?”

  “Oh, I’m gonna get you out,” he replied, saying it like a threat as he reached for his wallet. “How much does the sheriff want? Five or ten dollars?”

  “Fifty.”

  “Fifty!”

  “Twenty-five for me and twenty-five for Rosie.”

  “Twenty-five dollars to take home bacon I can’t even eat?”

  The Aurorians turned toward him and as one protested, “Montana.”

  “Watch your language, young man,” the colonel added.

  “Touchy bunch, aren’t they,” the stranger observed.

  “Just get her out of here, please?” Andrew said, escorting Twinkle toward the door. “The sheriff is still right outside, but the crowd is growing. We need to leave.”

  “Run out of town again,” the colonel said with a sigh. “This is getting to be a habit.”

  Gabe murmured something to the stranger, then stormed from the jailhouse yanking bills from his wallet. Jack watched through the window and provided Tess a running commentary while Gabe forked cash over to the law. “Looks like Sheriff Marston is headed this way. Wake up Rosie, Tess. It’s time to go home.”

  “Yeah,” Andrew agreed. “I don’t like the sounds that crowd is making. They’re saying some bad things about Rosie. They’re as wrong as they can be. All she did was defend herself. Besides, she didn’t know she was knocking that Bart Collins into a pile of dog sh…uh, stuff.”

  But as the sheriff led Gabe inside the jailhouse, Jack tossed them a problem. “We can’t leave yet. Amy won’t be through with her doctor’s appointment for a good half hour.”

  Sheriff Marston cleared his throat, spat and missed the spittoon in the corner, and said, “Half an hour’s too long to let that animal hang around. If you don’t fancy seein’ a hog slaughtering this afternoon, I suggest you get it on out of town.”

  “I’ll take them back,” Gabe said, his gaze on the cell door as the sheriff inserted the key and the lock clicked open. “We’ll take the supply wagon and y’all can follow later in the stage.”

  “That will work,” Twinkle replied, nodding with satisfaction. “The wagon’s all loaded and ready. It’s parked in front of the mercantile.”

  Gabe nodded, then said, “It would probably be best if Tess and the pig went out the back way. Mack,” he said, addressing the stranger who stood just inside the front door. “Would you go get the wagon and drive it around back?”

  “Sure, Gabe.” The stranger tipped his hat toward Tess, and said, “Looks like we’ll need to catch that introduction later.” Then he exited the building.

  The sheriff snorted. “This is a jail. There ain’t a back door.”

  “You’ve got a window,” Gabe explained as Mack departed.

  The sheriff’s bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows arched as he eyed the narrow window skeptically. “You’re gonna shove the pig through that? This I gotta see.”

  Shaking his head, Gabe took hold of the lawman’s arm and led him toward the door. “But what you don’t need to see is what’s beneath my wife’s petticoats. You’re going to go out there and distract the crowd.”

  “Now, wait a minute. I’m the sheriff.”

  “And you have both bail money and a bribe in your pocket, so I suggest you help us out here.”

  Tess vacillated between relief and trepidation while she watched Jack and Colonel Jasper escort the sheriff to assist in creating a diversion, leaving her and Rosie alone with Gabe. Although she was happy to be out of that cell, she dreaded the ride back to Aurora Springs. Her husband looked mad enough to chew bullets. “I knew I should have stayed in bed today,” she muttered.

  Gabe fired a glare her way and she recognized the look. He’d heard her, and he had something he wanted to add Tess knew that something wouldn’t be anything she wanted to hear. In the old days, that particular look always precipitated a particularly sarcastic remark. It was enough to get her back up under the circumstances, and she shot a scowl of her own right back at him.

  The air between them all but crackled as they stood without speaking, waiting for the man he’d called Mack to arrive with the wagon. Gabe faced the window, leaned his arm against the wall, and stared outside. She kept quiet when he started drumming his fingers against the plaster. When he added a toe-tapping thud against the floor planking, she reached her limit. “I don’t know why you’re in such a snit.”

  His fingers stopped mid-thrum. “Pardon me?”

  “Bart Collins is the one at fault here, not me.”

  “Uh huh.” He slowly turned his head to look at her. His narrowed eyes glowed like hot coals. “You did nothing wrong by throwing yourself at a bullet to save a rack of ribs waitin’ on the barbeque.”

  She wrinkled her nose in a snarl. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. Don’t call Rosie names.”

  “She’s a pig. You risked your life for a pig.”

  “I don’t believe it was that big of a risk. Bart Collins would not have taken a shot at me. Rosie, yes. But not me. The lawmen around here may not hold those of us from Aurora Springs in high regard, but they couldn’t ignore us being shot at. Collins must know that.”

  “Dammit, Tess, you don’t mess around where guns are concerned. Bad things can happen too easily. I can’t believe you were this stu—”

  Luckily for him, he bit off the word when the noise of a wagon rolling up filtered in through the back window. Tess was willing to concede he had a point about the danger of firearms, but she wouldn’t allow any man to call her stupid.

  Gabe pointed at Rosie, saying, “Stand by to help me with this overweight, stinking sausage-on-feet if I need it.”

  Tess clamped her teeth against commenting on the name calling and positioned herself to assist if needed. Rosie, bless her heart, squealed and snorted but didn’t squirm overmuch when he hefted her up and out into Mack’s waiting arms. Now her turn, Tess felt his hands grasp her waist. Expecting him to lift her feet first through the window, she was unpleasantly surprised to find herself
pointed head first. His helpful shove to her bottom felt entirely too much like a swat and if the stranger hadn’t been there to help she’d have dropped in an undignified heap. Cognizant of the value of picking one’s battles, Tess chose not to mention her thoughts on his high, or more aptly, low-handedness, when he followed on her heels, literally, a moment later.

  Gabe set about shifting boxes and unfolding a tarp and soon had created a hiding place for her and Rosie for the flight from town. “Think you can keep the porker quiet as we head through town?” he asked as Tess settled in beside Rosie. “I’d rather not fight off a rioting crowd this afternoon.”

  “Rosie won’t be a lick of trouble,” Tess replied with confidence she didn’t honestly feel. Rosie had been acting especially ornery of late, and Tess believed the dear was pining for Will.

  A particularly loud snort reinforced her unease.

  Tess scratched Rosie’s snout as Gabe bid his friend good-bye. “Sorry we didn’t have more time. Make sure you look me up on your way back.”

  Mack glanced at Tess, then said, “This assignment may take awhile. Don’t know that I’ll finish by the first of the year.”

  Now, Gabe looked at her. “In that case, check with the governor.”

  Tess realized the men had passed some sort of message, but she didn’t have the energy to try to figure it out at the moment. Gabe gave a farewell wave to his friend, then climbed up into the driver’s seat. Just before she pulled the tarpaulin over her and her pet, she said, “Gabe? On the way out of town you need to take us by way of the bordello.”

  He fumbled the reins. “Come again?”

  “I left something there I need to get.”

  “At the whorehouse?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you were at the saloon when the trouble started. That was bad enough but now you’re saying you were at the whorehouse?”

  “Actually I visited both establishments. And I left a package behind the bordello that I must have before I leave town, so I want you to drive down the alley so I can retrieve it.”

  He lifted his face toward the sky and she heard him murmur, “She is not the woman I married.”

  You have that right, she silently fumed.

  “What the hell.” Louder, he said, “All right, I’ll lead you down the garden path, madam. I reckon I’m anxious to see what’s in this package of yours.”

  Over my dead body. She flipped the tarp over her head with flourish.

  As he pulled the wagon out onto the dusty main street, she peeked between the tarp and the sideboards and observed the crowd. She spotted Andrew’s hat at the center of things and she was certain she heard Twinkle’s voice, wailing about some nonsense or other. The diversion had worked. Nobody noticed the departure of the Aurora Springs supply wagon. Almost nobody, that is. The stranger called Mack stood at the edge of the crowd, and Tess grinned when he stared right at her and winked.

  He seemed like such a nice man. She hoped a time would come when she could meet him properly.

  At the far end of town, Gabe guided the wagon onto a side street and then into an alley. A few minutes later, the wagon wheels rolled to a stop. “Tell me where it is and I’ll get it.”

  “Not necessary,” Tess said, throwing back the tarpaulin. “I’ll get it.”

  She scrambled from the wagon and retrieved her brown-paper wrapped package from where she’d stashed it inside a broken flower pot on the bordello’s back steps. Upon returning to the wagon, she spied the curiosity in her husband’s gaze and clasped the package tightly to her chest. “Don’t even try.”

  She crawled back into her hiding place with her package and Gabe signaled the mules forward. She bounced along in the back of the wagon for a good ten minutes until he told her they’d made it safely out of town, apparently without being followed. At that point, she joined him up front.

  One glance at Gabe’s face made her reconsider. Maybe she should ride all the way with Rosie. Time had not soothed his temper. If anything, the set to his jaw looked harder than before. Wonderful. He’s been brooding.

  Some men should never be left alone with their own thoughts.

  Rosie chose that moment to snort, as though she agreed with her mistress.

  “Oh, let’s get it over with,” Tess said, exasperated. “Go ahead, Gabe. Rant and rave and tell me how stupid you think I am. That’s the word you were going to use before, am I right? You think I’m stupid for saving Rosie.”

  He spat an oath and yanked back on the reins until the mules lumbered to a stop. “Yes, I think you’re stupid. Stupid and stubborn and pigheaded.”

  “Watch what you say, Gabe Cameron.”

  For once he didn’t object to her use of his real name. He was too busy fuming and gripping her shoulders as if to shake her. “You risked your life, Tess.” His voice sounded wrenched from his soul. “You went and risked your life when…when…”

  “When what?”

  He blew out a harsh breath once, then twice. “When I’ve only just found you again.”

  And then he kissed her. He pulled her against him, took her mouth, and plundered. She tasted his frustration, tasted his fear. Tasted his passion.

  Oh, Gabe.

  Tess melted and surrendered, matching him kiss for kiss. Caress for caress. Groan for achy, need-filled groan.

  This explosion had been building for days. For years. Her bodice draped open by the skillful work of his fingers. Her laces loosened, her corset fell away. His hands tore her shimmy and she was free. Free, to arch and offer. Free to sigh as he accepted and kneaded and took her nipple into the heaven of his mouth.

  She didn’t care that she lay across the hard pine plank of a wagon. She didn’t care that they lost themselves out in the open exposed to the gaze of anyone who happened by. All she cared about was Gabe and the magic he conjured with his mouth and hands and body.

  “God,” he prayed as he dragged his mouth from one breast to the other, suckling, feasting. Hungry.

  She was hungry too. She’d missed this, missed him. So long. It’s been so long.

  And she was so ready. They’d been headed for this since Dallas.

  His hand delved beneath her skirts. His fingers found her, explored her, caressed her. Slipped inside to stroke that place untouched for what seemed like forever. She moaned aloud and he answered with a low, rough growl. Moments later the orgasm rolled over her like a gentle wind.

  “Oh, my stars,” she breathed, gasping at the pleasure, wondering at the speed of it, wanting it to go on and on and on.

  Her words seemed to call him back to earth. His hand stilled and he lifted his head. For a long, lovely moment he looked deep into her eyes. “Damn, Venus, what are we doing?”

  Venus. The old nickname was music to her ears.

  Breathing heavy, he sat up. He swallowed hard and braced his hands on his knees, hanging his head, shaking it. “In the big middle of the desert. In front of the damned peeping pig.”

  “Are you stopping?”

  He hesitated just a moment, then nodded.

  “But I…don’t you…you didn’t…”

  “Not like this, darlin’. We both deserve more. Forgive me, I treated you poorly.”

  Putting her clothing to rights, feeling the warmth stealing over her cheeks, she couldn’t stop the little laugh. “Poorly? That’s not exactly the term I’d use.”

  He jerked his head up, studied her, and the familiar, wicked gleam took light in his eyes. A smile played at the comer of his mouth. “Not poorly, huh?”

  She fanned her face. “Not poorly at all.”

  The grin broke out and he made a show of shifting uncomfortably on his seat “Well, at least one of us is feeling…uh…”

  “Not poorly.” Tess bit the inside of her mouth. Otherwise she’d giggle and the really didn’t want to take it that far.

  He sighed heavily and grimaced. “I don’t suppose there’s any whiskey stashed in those supplies back there. I sure could use a drink.”

  Tess co
nsidered just a moment before replying, “No whiskey, but I do have something.” Reaching into the back of the wagon, she retrieved her private package, pausing long enough to scratch Rosie behind the ears when she snorted for attention. Tearing open the paper, she reached inside and felt the smooth, cool surface of the bottle. She pulled it out and handed it to him.

  Gabe took her offering and his eyebrows winged up, then down, and he sympathetically said, “Elderberry wine. Still have trouble with the monthlies, do you?”

  An hour earlier, she’d have died before admitting it. Now she simply nodded.

  Gabe pulled the cork from the bottle with a pop. He stared at the label, grimaced, then lifted it to his lips for a long pull. Then he shuddered. “Bleh. Nasty sweet stuff. I’d forgotten just how awful this is.”

  Then he took another long sip, repeated his shudder, and eyed Tess with a considering stare. “You got wine from the saloon, and from the whorehouse…” He reached for her package.

  “I prefer bordello,” she held it away.

  “Give over, wife. I know what it is.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then you know I don’t want to share.”

  “Give it up, Tess.” Grinning, he lunged for the sack.

  She squealed and held it away, to no avail. She couldn’t fight the man’s superior strength. She couldn’t withstand the wicked twinkle in his eyes or the way his fingers knew just where to tickle. “Oh, all right,” she said, laughing. “Here.” She shoved the package at him.

  He reached into the paper and removed the box. “Tess, you hoarder you, you haven’t changed a bit.” He lifted the lid and grinned. “It’s been years since I’ve plundered a box of chocolates.”

  GABE UNLOADED the last box from the supply wagon and toted it into the storeroom. Setting his burden down beside a sack of flour, he stretched his aching back muscles and sighed with the relief of a job completed. Next time he’d make sure not to get stuck doing this task by himself.

  Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the time alone with Tess. He wouldn’t trade that wagon ride home for all the tumbleweeds in southwest Texas. It was more than just the sex play they’d shared, although that had been downright delightful. Something had changed for them out there among the cactus and the sagebrush. They’d talked to one another all the way back home. Small talk, friendly talk. Intimate talk. Hopeful talk. And underneath it all, desire hummed a constant, muted tune.